


Living Legacy

by doodlebug_nimbus



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Being Rewritten, Body Horror, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Female Cloud Strife, Gen, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlebug_nimbus/pseuds/doodlebug_nimbus
Summary: Cloud’s mind begins to fall apart in the face of strange developments about her and her life, seemingly triggered by the presence of bizarre dreams invading her subconscious. When she decides to get a handle on her life again, she realizes that, perhaps, ignorance is truly bliss.
Kudos: 4





	1. Incarnation

**Author's Note:**

> oh yuck, my first fic on here. probably sucks as i largely wrote it for myself before deciding to share. no clue if i tagged accurately, so sorry if the tags don't fit my garbage, lol. also a lot of the stuff in here is very headcanon-y and probably AU, too; not exactly too different from the game but there's some stuff in the subtext that i'm running with (also mixed with my interpretation of events, so not exactly super accurate to canon but also not like something that might as well be separated from the original, thus the canon adjacent tag). and also cloud’s a girl here because why not. body horror is probably going to come into play later into the story, aside from the beginning (?) (i don't think it will be super gory hence no warnings, can change it though if someone disagrees)
> 
> constructive criticism appreciated!

She knew she should've been afraid of her surroundings; they were warm, wet, squishy, _sticky_. She couldn't see, but she could feel the walls closing in on her, wrapping themselves around her bare legs and arms, slowly swallowing up her chest and neck, and eventually, her face too, she guessed. But she didn't mind. It all felt…right, somehow. She was safe, wherever she was. Nobody could hurt her anymore.

She curled up tighter into the fetal position, then felt something long and thick, attached to her abdomen, push against one of her knees. Using her hands, she quickly realized it was some sort of umbilical cord, accommodated to support an adult. She found herself unable to elicit a disgusted response, like any normal person would in her situation. In fact, she felt more comfortable.

She wasn't sure if she was dreaming or if she had died. She didn't remember how she got here, either. Did it matter, though?

She shivered a little and rested her head on her hands. A distant pulsating thump, like that of a heartbeat, occasionally reached her ears. Unknown fluids swam around whatever was generating the thumping, while her eyelids drooped more the longer she tuned into the rhythmic sounds. She gripped a tentacle curled around her right arm. Warm and slimy, like the walls.

She was finally home.

“It's a bit like going back to your roots, ya know?” Tifa said, flashing a goofy smile at Cloud. She didn't reciprocate the smile, instead gripping the edge of the bar tighter, her face blank. “Ah, well, you wouldn't really understand unless you experienced it yourself.”

“No, no, I understand, it's just…I feel bad for not being like most people.”

“Oh.” Tifa stared at her feet as a downcast expression overtook her beaming grin. “Sorry, I forgot you never went to school.”

“That's not what's bothering me,” Cloud said, attempting to negate Tifa’s sudden pain. “It's _why_ my mother refused to let me go.”

Tifa looked at Cloud, her eyes wide. Her frown had shortened into a curt line. “What? I thought you were too sickly to go?”

Cloud shook her head. “No, that's what she told everyone. She told me that a school environment would be too risky for my safety—too much information about her and I would be in the authorities’ hands.”

“Well,” Tifa said before she started to wring her hands. Cloud wondered if she shouldn't have said anything; Tifa only fidgeted when she was nervous. “What's she trying to hide?”

Cloud's face shifted from aloofness to earnestness. “That's the thing—I still don't know what was up with her that she refused to let anyone see. Maybe she was afraid of Shinra or something?”

“But then, why would Shinra be interested in her?”

“I can't answer that.”

“Would it have something to do with you?”

“Why me? I wasn't anything special. I just got sick a lot.” Cloud scoffed at herself.

Tifa turned away in thought. For a while, Cloud kept glancing at her anxiously, as though perhaps she somehow had the answer to her mystery. Then, Tifa gasped and looked back at her.

“You never knew your father, right?”

“No. Mom said he died before I could remember.”

Tifa grimaced, pity welling up in her eyes. “Maybe she lied about that, too.”

“What! Are you thinking he might still be alive somewhere?”

“Or maybe,” Tifa said, pausing as her expression darkened once more, “maybe you never had a father.”

“How'd I come into existence, then? Are you insinuating that I was created in a lab?” Cloud had raised her voice a little too loud, but she realized too late what she had done.

Tifa brought her hands up in alarm. “I'm just postulating here. I'm not saying you're less human than us, Cloud.” She smiled weakly, replacing the smile with a flat line after noticing Cloud's perturbed stare.

“I don't believe you. Everyone dumps me the minute I step out of line.”

“You really think that we'd abandon you for your shortcomings?”

“Most people I've met in my life have done that to me, shortly after meeting, too. No one's genuinely seen me as a peer. Just a thing to look at and mock. Like an attraction at a freak show.” Cloud's eyes lowered and she started scratching one of her elbows, feeling embarrassment bloom on her cheeks as Tifa continued to gawk at her. Then, shooting Tifa one last cursory glance before setting her line of sight on the floor, she added, “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I should’ve realized—”

“No, you're fine. It's me that's the problem.”

She couldn't sleep.

Something was digging into her bones. Or was it someone digging into her bones?

She turned over and shuddered.

She tensed at flickers of cruel images dancing in her sick mind, mingling with vague, gory visages.

Sick? Was she sick? Sick in the head or sick in the body?

Slimy viscera stretched across the chasms of her subconscious, chunked and laced across the gnarled teeth of some miserable monster with big, glossy, unintelligent eyes, some stupid creature trapped in a cage. Human viscera? Is that why it was stuck in a cage?

But where were the tears coming from? Was the monster…crying? She had never seen a monster cry before. Maybe there was something different about this one. Maybe that's why it was trapped, for research purposes. Probably Shinra’s detached curiosity once again hurting people. Wait—people? But that was a monster, not a person.

A blade of searing pain burrowed into her chest, forcing out a stifled whimper from her. She retracted into a ball under the covers of her bed.

Why was it so cold? She couldn't feel anything beyond pain or freezing numbness. Someone laughed at her.

Sephiroth? Her head jerked up, but she didn't see anything in the darkness swaddling her. No, he couldn’t be here. She killed him. The laughter must’ve come from within her head.

It was inside her. What was? She cried out again, gripping the sheets as something long and pointed probed her insides, sweat beading on her brow. It was severing the connective tissue, shifting organs into spaces they shouldn’t have been, pulling apart layers of fat so other objects could be inserted. Something needed to be grown inside of her. Something needed to be removed from her body. Harvesting time.

Her claws had protracted. Long and black, usually disguised as dirty nails when others were present, they existed only to remind her that she never belonged anywhere. She existed for others to gape and cry at.

She wanted her mother. But why? She was a traitor, someone not to be trusted. If she was willing to lie to others, why wouldn’t she lie to her own daughter?

There came a piercing ring, sharp like a scalpel, puncturing her eardrums to release a flood of sights, smells, sounds. They had all been lost to years of running away. She couldn’t hide anymore.

She passed out when Aerith smiled at her.

_You can never finish what you start. That’s my problem with you._

A woman snickered at him.

_Shut up. Like you’re one to talk. All you ever do is destroy._

_My destruction benefits Shinra. You make mistakes—costly mistakes. In a month or two you’ll be gone._

_You haven’t been paying attention, have you? Project Synthesis-2 is coming along quite nicely._

_That’s only because you stole my blueprints, you know. If it wasn’t for all of my work, you’d still be struggling to prevent J-cell contamination whenever you wanted a sample of her._

An indignant growl from her only prompted the man to chuckle.

_Never mind that most of the Grade 5 lab accidents only happened under your supervision._

_At least my “accidents” are deliberate. Now, I can’t say the same for you, can I?_

_At least the president seems more receptive to the developments of Project Synthesis-2. How many times did he threaten to either remove you or lower your position?_

_I’m still here._

A pause. 

_Think I’d be killed if Subject AB-86 ever returned to the laboratories to finish you off?_

_Is that a threat?_

_Purely a hypothetical. Answer it._

_I’d rather stop entertaining your stupid ideas. I’ll tell you this, however…_

Faint whispering was heard. The woman gasped.

_Miss Strife is a lot more fitting for you than Professor Strife ever would be. Wouldn't you agree, Claudia?_


	2. Reemergence

“Why are you here?” the little brunette asked her, turning to her with fascination burning in her bright green eyes. “You don’t look sick like us.”

“Well, my momma says I’m sick.” She thought for a moment, her mother’s sorry voice echoing in her mind. _You’ll be going to a very special place soon. They’ll be able to help you over there._ “I dunno what’s wrong with me, but I’m sick.”

“Your eyes look weird. And what’s that stuff?” The girl gestured to a purplish rash on the inside of her left arm. Black, spidery veins stretched out from within the rash to wrap around her elbow and biceps. It didn’t hurt, it just looked wrong. Perhaps looking wrong was bad enough.

Instinctively she gripped her arm, trying to hide the rash away from the girl’s probing eyes. “Nonna your business. You saw nothing.”

“I saw another kid with something like that on his arm before. Only eventually it had spread to his face and chest, he was crying a lot. He kept calling for his mommy, but the doctors tried to shush him.”

She leaned forward, alarmed at this information. She was going to end up like him? “What happened to him?”

“Well, at first, he was sent away from this place,” she said, then she tilted her head and rucked her brow. “No, no, actually, I think what happened was that he went to sleep first, then they sent him away. He was gone for a while. But when he came back, the stuff all over him was gone, and he was no longer sad. I think.”

“Is he still here now?”

“Oh, yes, of course. Nobody is allowed to leave until the doctors are satisfied.”

“Satisfied about what?”

The brunette’s face went blank. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, wait for me!”

Her fat little legs were so useless. No matter how hard she tried to run, she could never catch up to him.

“Give her back!”

His horrible cackles trailed after him. By now she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of him whenever she turned a corner.

She was about to yell again when finally, her stupid socks slid on the sterile vinyl floor and she crashed onto her face. It didn’t hurt much, but she started to bawl anyway.

In a minute or two he returned, slinking around the curve of the hallway like a cat that had been yelled at by its master. He was grumbling to himself as he sank to his knees to help her.

“Man, Hojo and his goons are gonna kill me,” he said, pulling on his bangs after she was sitting up. She watched him begin to chew on random strands of his hair, shaking his head and mumbling more nonsense to himself. “That is, if your dumb mom doesn’t get to me—”

“Meanie.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, come on, don’t start this again. I wasn’t being serious. Besides,” he said as he reached into his hospital gown and pulled out a ragged, drool-stained doll with long, scraggly, white hair—just like what was on his own head. A small smirk appeared on his face as she squealed, then grabbed the doll from his hands. “See? I’m not that bad.”

She hugged the doll and beamed at him. “Thank you, big brother!”

“Oh, ew, don’t call me that! We’re not related, despite what your mother tells you.”

“But Mommy always tells the truth. And she says you’re my brother.” She looked up at him with wide, keen eyes.

He sighed. Motioning for her to take his hand, he spoke again when he started to lead her back to their cells. “Maybe someday you’ll learn that not everyone always tells the truth. I had to figure that out the hard way.”

Cloud didn’t want to deal with anyone the next day. The new, searing pain radiating from her shoulder blades was exhausting. She scratched her upper back constantly, and every time she happened to reach the area where her shoulder blades lie, she’d retract her hand from the needles of shock piercing the skin. The skin itself was warm and tender. _Something is growing in there._ What was? She discarded the thought as she climbed upstairs to seat herself at the counter, where Tifa was prepping for later patrons.

She realized how much better it would’ve been if she tried to go back to sleep, instead of coming up for the day, when Tifa glanced at her and spoke up, her pupils dots.

“Woah—have you slept at all lately?”

“Take a good look, Tifa,” Cloud said as she raised her head off the counter. “What do you think?”

“But just a few nights ago you were sleeping pretty good. Or at least, as pretty good as someone like you can do.” The glass she was cleaning was set down.

“I mean, you’re not looking so great, either.” At that, Tifa glanced away, red tinting her face.

In a low voice, she said, “It’s bad enough that you can see it?”

“Bloodshot eyes are pretty unmissable.” Cloud cleared her throat, and briefly thought about what bothered Tifa about herself. She never complained, always wearing a brilliant smile and cheering everyone else on, no matter how dire the situation seemed. But regardless of what she presented to everyone else, Cloud always knew that she was hiding her inner turmoil. While she could never extrapolate what exactly she dealt with, beyond general sadness, she had always sensed it. From the day she saw her, she was drawn to her, like how the younger Tifa never seemed to get away from the mountains. _Was her hair lighter back then? Whatever, that’s not important right now._ Her thoughts were becoming more scrambled. “Anyway, what’s the matter with you?”

“Oh, nothing.” She forced a smile, but quickly frowned as Cloud narrowed her eyes at her.

“Come on. We agreed to talk whenever something was bothering either of us.”

Tifa whimpered, to her surprise. She never did that before. “Well, i-it’s just, well, you know, I don’t really…uh, feel right about it.” She started shifting in her spot and studying the floor, as if it was the most interesting item in the world. “I don’t know. I think you’ll judge me.” She spilled the last few words in a jumbled mess.

“What? Me—of all people—judging others? If anything, all you guys should be judging me. Listen, T. It’s alright. No judgements here.” Cloud’s smile seemed to assuage her slightly; her heart fluttered, it was the first time that her smile didn’t scare someone.

“If you insist.” She audibly sucked in a breath. “I’ve been having these weird—visions, I guess? They’re not quite dreams, but they’re not quite flashbacks, either. They’re usually vague or very short. Like last night, as I was laying in bed, I suddenly remembered one of the times I went up the mountains by myself. Someone was calling out to me, I think, like I had been gone for too long.”

“Anything else?”

“Not really. They’ve only started a day or two ago, and they’re always an episode of me in the mountains. Got any idea as to what’s going on with them? I mean, you know this sort of stuff more than I do.”

Cloud caught flashes of a little girl, her white hair reflecting the moonlight amidst the wrath of a tremendous snowstorm, wandering in the vague darkness of the forest surrounding her. She was crying, calling, no, begging for her mother to come home. She screamed out for her a few more times before crumbling into a nearby snowbank. It wasn’t long before her sniffles died out. _Who was that? Why did I see—no._ She needed to keep moving. If she focused on these oddities, she would only get worse.

“Not a clue. I mean, I’m familiar with these sorts of things, but I don’t really understand them, either.” She pouted and shrugged. She wanted to help Tifa, yet she couldn’t. She really was useless. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t understand a lot of things.” Cloud wondered if she might’ve been referring to her. “But please, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I’m kinda stuck in a similar situation, except they’re more vivid. I’m usually a child in them, too.”

Tifa brought a hand to her chin, her mouth curving downward in intensive thought. “Think they’re related?”

“How? And why?” Cloud looked away for a second, thinking she heard someone step up to the entrance. Nothing was there. She turned back around at the sound of a strange laugh from Tifa. Her head had lowered, her bangs shadowing her eyes, and she held tightly onto the counter.

“It’s kind of scary, isn’t it?” A slanted smile manifested on her face. “How little we understand of ourselves?” When she lifted her head again, Cloud saw that she was crying. _That’s why her eyes are so red?_

She then realized that she wasn’t the only one who was afraid of herself.

A little baby girl, probably no older than nine or ten months, stared back at her through the window of the cell, seated on a table fitted into a corner. She found her turquoise eyes stunning—such rich, vibrant color teeming with vitality and curiosity! Her fluffy white hair was also interesting; a messy array of snow-colored spikes shooting straight up from the top and sides of her head. The only thing on her, besides her diaper, was a little pink bib. She wanted to wave to the girl, just as a friendly gesture, but when she raised her hand, so did the girl.

_Oh no._

She put a hand to the glass, seeing that it was as small and delicate as the girl’s. She pulled a face, and the little girl did, too. _I don’t understand_ , she thought to herself. _How is this possible?_

She never remembered a time where her hair was white. And weren’t her eyes much more blue? Where was she, even?

She froze upon seeing the door open behind her reflection. A somewhat young woman, her over-sized lab coat draping off her frail form, came in with a clipboard and pen in hand. Her weary, dull blue eyes, frayed, blonde ponytail, and pitying smile were all too familiar.

_So she did work for Shinra?_

Indignation frothed within one part of her, yet another part, possibly the original version of herself, giggled and bounced at the sight of her.

The woman looked down at her, and her grim expression melted into something of a warm smile, one that Cloud had long forgotten. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you today?”

She tried to speak, to ask what the hell her mother was doing working for such a vile corporation, but instead, a series of delighted gurgles came out of her mouth. Her mother laughed and came over, scooping her into her arms. Cloud’s rage subsided slightly in the wake of her fond embrace. Even if she was once as cruel and as calculating as that rotten Hojo, she managed, from time to time, to remember her humanity, no matter how brief the instances were.

It was in that moment she realized how dearly she missed her mother.

“You’ve improved quite a bit since the last time I saw you.” Her smile faltered here, as she looked up to reminisce about something lost upon Cloud. “But never mind that! I’m just glad you’re still here with us. And since you’re still here, she’ll be happy, too.” Cloud sensed a great wave of relief wash over her mother, though she still didn’t understand what she was talking about. “In fact, why don’t we go take a little trip to see your other mother, too? She’s been quite worried about you, you know.”

_My other mother?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering why everything is so fragmented (and thus the quality drops down by 5,000%), don't worry, that will come into play later.  
> once again, constructive criticism is appreciated!


	3. Pretenses

“She’s been like that for the past few hours,” said a mustached man, spitting his words at her mother. She set down her beloved doll to listen to the adults arguing at the doorway. The brunette, who had told her her name was Aerith, toddled over to watch with her. They were referring to the newest child in the hospital wing, a girl who had funny hair just like her. Her piercing red eyes, currently dull with a lack of mind, fascinated her. She never saw anyone with an eye color like hers before. “What the hell did you do to her now?”

She marveled at how her mother always held her own, always maintained her composure, even when certain death seemed the only outcome. She remembered the smile she offered before she was swallowed up in flames. “I can assure you, Mr. Lockhart, we have done nothing to harm her. In fact, we are looking into doing quite the opposite.”

Mr. Lockhart’s brow only lowered farther. “You work for Shinra. You think I believe your lies?”

“While I may be affiliated with Shinra, everything I say is of my own volition.” The weariness in her voice spoke of all the times she informed someone of this detail. “I can affirm that we help sick people on this floor.”

“More lies! The sooner you let go of my baby, the more likely I’ll let you keep your head,” he said contemptuously, looking about to spit in her face. His hands clenched and unclenched, a sure sign the urge to fight back was welling up in his mind. _Tifa sure is a lot like him_ , the older Cloud thought to herself, though the little one thought nothing of what she was seeing. She was fixating on the new child and her white hair. There was someone out there like her! But she couldn’t talk to her or play with her, which pained her greater than any of the things that stupid crusty old man did to her. She loved playing with other children, it helped her feel more normal. “Just cut the corporate crap-talk and give her to me.”

“Please listen—your daughter is in critical condition, and this hospital wing houses the only experts who know how to treat what’s ailing her. Removing her from this place will guarantee her death.”

The mention of her death seemed to snap him out of his stewing fury, at least, somewhat. “You serious?”

“I’ll put it this way: your daughter has a disease that no one’s seen in centuries, perhaps even millennia. In fact, texts of the Ancients’ times referred to it as _avanah_ , meaning ‘touch of death’ in their language. In other words, it’s been so long since a natural case occurred that today’s top doctors wouldn’t be able to help her.”

“So what makes you guys so special?”

Her mother smirked and lowered her head, an oddly sinister gesture that she never thought her mother capable of. “We have complete possession of Ancient knowledge. Why not use it?”

A woman, invisible to her and apparently not tangible to anyone else, spoke for the very first time. The weight of her wrath seeped from every word.

_Complete possession, she says. They really think they’re the masters?_ She laughed, a horribly hollow, frigid howl of repulsed delight. _My day is fast approaching. They’ll learn of that soon enough._

Her older self, alarmed at the woman’s sudden manifestation in her mind, became paralyzed with fervent, feverish horror, watching as the hazy memory began to submit to the blackness of her subconscious. _Your day? What, like you’re going to bring upon the end of the world?_

_I’m afraid you’re wrong, my child. Fate had set it in motion millennia ago._

Cloud wanted to scream within her headspace.

_What are you talking about? How’d you get in here? Who are you, even? And I’m not your child!_

_Don’t recognize telepathic communication, do you? I needed to intervene, because if I don’t, you’ll still be wandering your pointless journey in the wastelands of this forsaken planet with your silly rag-tag group of unwitting partners, idling without a purpose and an identity. I’m trying to help you. And as for your second question?_ She cackled again. _Let’s save that for later. I don’t want you to misconstrue who I am—everyone else has done enough of that already. Even—_ she paused. _But, regardless, you are indeed my daughter. I’ve seen to it that I’d have a child, a daughter specifically, even if she doesn’t want to accept who she’s related to…_ The laugh she belted out here was different from the wicked ones prior; this one was dry, bitter, almost pained. _I ask of you, one last thing. I want you to return to Shinra Manor, then go into the library. Perhaps we will be able to reunite proper._

_Re…reunite? Reunion? Reunion. Reunion. Reunion…Must…return…_

Yuffie scowled at the two women who greeted her with vicious glowers upon her reappearance. “What? Aren’t ya glad to see me back after so long?”

“Where are the others?” Tifa said in a deathly voice, rising from her position behind the counter.

Slightly unsettled by a malicious glint that flickered in her red eyes, Yuffie didn’t answer immediately, only realizing after Tifa drew closer that her silence only made her look worse. “Uh, uh hey—wait! Y-you know what happened with the others?”

She stopped short of a few feet away from choking distance. “What?”

Her growl didn’t alleviate Yuffie’s fear. “I got lost.” She smiled sheepishly, expecting a fist of titanium to snatch her throat and squeeze it until it snapped. Instead, Tifa leaned back, her expression now of mild irritation as she folded her arms.

“So they’re still out there? And you don’t know where they are?” She took a moment to groan. “Honestly, you’re hopeless.”

“It’s not like they were doing anything important!” Yuffie said in a feeble protest, though she shrank further under the pressure building in the room. “I mean, seriously, what was the goal? Another search party for a bunch of corpses?”

“You have the choice of not going, you know.” Cloud said finally in a detached manner, while her hand slid out a bit from underneath her chin. Yuffie found her vacant gaze worse than Tifa’s fury; it reached her at a visceral, almost primal level, dissecting her, inspecting every last chunk of her being to find the sweet weak spot that would wipe her essence from the planet. Tifa was powerful, that the teenager could clearly see. But Cloud’s true power was yet to be understood. It didn’t help that the last battle with Sephiroth wasn’t visible to anyone besides her and her alone.

There was a vague notion that she was restraining herself, like she was ashamed of her fullest potential. And tried as she might have to repress it, her presence never failed to loom over everything else in her vicinity, a vortex that pulled in specks of matter so small that they might as well have existed only as hypotheses, and crushed them into oblivion so that it could be the only thing in existence. Yuffie couldn’t shake the feeling that if she really wanted to, she would’ve smote the planet faster than Sephiroth could’ve summoned Meteor. The question, then, was what was compelling her to hold onto the planet, latching onto it despite its death nearing more as time toiled on? Perhaps the answer was more disturbing than what would’ve occurred had she despised her world.

She regretted her words the moment she let them slip. “But—if I stayed behind, you guys would’ve made me babysit Marlene!”

Here Tifa’s face lightened, snorting at Yuffie’s lame excuse. Cloud’s eyes merely narrowed. “Seriously? _That’s_ what you were afraid of? Taking care of a child for a while?” She broke into laughter, as she was unable to hold onto her judgement any longer.

“I’m bad with kids!” Yuffie exclaimed, only making Tifa laugh harder.

Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere, Cloud stood up and headed back downstairs, mainly to figure out what was going on with her back. And her mind.

She sat on the edge of her makeshift bed in the basement, repeating the mysterious woman’s words in her head for a long time, and the longer she mulled over her, the farther the material world drifted away from her until she found herself sitting, or floating, perhaps, in a dark void.

She then summoned all the random, fuzzy memories that had been appearing in her dreams over the past couple of days, unwilling to accept the fact that she was indeed raised—possibly even created—in a lab. It was why she didn’t belong anywhere. Why her mother always seemed to be paranoid about the strangest things, why her mind was in several places at once at all times, why her supposed allies feared her, why she looked as monstrous as she did; all because her mother decided to experiment. She had cursed her daughter with the “gift” of life. Being dead sounded better.

Her heart, previously imperceptible to her, suddenly pounded out as one thought clamped down on her brain.

_Is this…how Sephiroth felt?_ She shook her head. No, she was better than him. At least she hadn’t sat down in the library to lose whatever she had left of her mental faculties and kill everyone. _Of course, that’s a very low bar to clear, but…_

She remembered her words.

_I want you to return to Shinra Manor…_

That was a trap, wasn’t it? Especially since she mentioned the library—so she could suffer a fate identical to his? So the planet could be nearly destroyed again?

_Perhaps we will be able to reunite proper._

_Reunion…Reunion…Re…union…No, no, no! He’s dead! Gone—why do I still want to join him when he doesn’t even exist anymore? Unless I want to join someone else? But who?_

The only other person she could think of was also dead.

_Maybe no one’s talking to me. Maybe I’m hallucinating a lot of this._ She remembered the bump over her shoulder blade. That wasn’t imaginary. _Maybe that’s a tumor or something perfectly explainable by normal human means. Then again, that’s the problem, isn’t it? _She let out a small laugh, wringing the sheets of her bed in her hands._ I can’t be defined by normal parameters. What place is there for something that can never be seen through a definite lens, something that escapes humanity’s ability to categorize? Nowhere. I don’t belong to anything or anyone because I don’t fit into this world correctly._

She brought her hands to her face, scrutinizing the retractable, black claws sprouting from her fingers like corrupted flowers. _How hilariously inhuman_ , she thought, vitriol stirring within her heart _, and not surprising that Sephiroth had these, too._

Chills wriggled down her spine.

_He was the product of Hojo’s madness. I’m the product of my mother’s own madness._

A fury she had never known before erupted as she pondered her mother and the two halves of her identity, the widowed housewife in Nibelheim and the Shinra scientist. _What else was she hiding? I must find out. Maybe the mansion has the answers…Yes, that’s where I’ll go tomorrow. The mansion. That has to be the source of everything. Maybe if I go, I’ll finally be able to put a stop to these dreams before they worsen—and maybe understand what’s going on with my back. And maybe I’ll finally feel at peace once I know about everything pertaining to me…_

She’d learn that peace wouldn’t be the ideal word to use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this chapter's a bit slow, sorry about that. i promise next one will start picking up, and maybe the tags will finally become appropriate!  
> once again, constructive criticism is appreciated!  
> also maybe it was a mistake to upload a W.I.P....


	4. Awakening

_Smells like hell_ , Cloud thought upon kicking open Shinra Manor’s doors. The urge to run away burrowed into her head like a tapeworm would into someone’s brain, but her curiosity overrode any sort of ill prescience she might’ve held deep within her guts. She had to know. Even if there was the overwhelmingly rank miasma of decades past looming above her. _Was it always this bad?_

She stood for a moment, immersed in contemplation. _Maybe I just never noticed it back because I was obsessed with Sephiroth…_

Then she heard her. Her words were fragmented, yet impossibly clear in her thoughts. _The library…me…understand…truth?_

Her legs began to move on their own accord, but not before Cloud reasserted her control and dug her soles into the mangy carpet. Sweat was beginning to bead on her brow and collect on her palms. She shook her head, more astounded than disturbed. _What the hell was that about? I haven’t felt anything like that since he—no, it’s not him. It can’t be him, I killed him. And I killed her, too, so I…don’t know what’s happening right now._

She cast one foot forward, cautious. Then the other. She repeated this process, ensuring that each movement was her decision, until she came face to face with the stairwell feeding into the beginning of the library, giving it a furtive glance before looking away and worrying about Tifa. _I wonder if she’s noticed that I’m gone. And if she has, does she care? Will she show up here, soon? Will she yell at me?_

She groaned. People yelling at her always made her uneasy to a primal degree, yet she never knew why. Her mother, despite her scientific atrocities, laboriously proved to Cloud again and again that she loved her in a way that only mothers knew, that despite her horrific origins, she was still her daughter; she never raised her voice or threatened her or threw things at her or hit her. However, she found herself flinching whenever someone moved an arm or leg too quickly or hollered, constantly apologizing for her existence, for making easy, simplistic mistakes, for anything she might’ve asked of others, no matter how realistic her favors were, and never failing to seek out ways to minimize her presence, even if others expressed desires to be with her.

_Be realistic, Cloud. She’s probably glad that I’m gone._

That’s all she was, really, a burden. She wasn’t strong, she didn’t have useful magic, she didn’t even have a good grip on herself. Her intermittent mental breakdowns dragged everyone else down and aggravated them more now since she had no reason to fall apart—he was dead, after all. She should’ve been moving on with her life like the others, adapting to the current hellscape they lived in, figuring out a purpose in her life now that they destroyed the ultimate evil. But no, instead, she lazed about in the basement of Tifa’s bar, lamenting about nonsense like she was some deranged vagrant Tifa pitied and took in. At least the others were searching out survivors and helping them accommodate to something resembling structure in their lives. At least they were helping people. At least they were doing something of worth.

What was she doing? Nothing. She was useless. Marlene was more useful and she wasn’t even thirteen yet.

She remembered a few times where they’d throw parties at the bar, and she despised the laughter and cheering and hooting as people got drunker and drunker and more careless. They were managing to enjoy themselves, somewhat. She compared those attestable moments where they’d awkwardly try to comfort her as she entered one of her delirious trances, their unsettled, bewildered, fearful expressions, their wavering voices, their distance to when those parties were held. Sometimes she’d lurk in the stairwell, peering above the first step to observe them. She couldn’t watch for long before indulging in her petulance and umbrage, unable to ignore the fact that they seemed so much happier without her.

Confronting Tifa about it never gave her the result she wanted. She’d always put on a mask of intense concern, shaming Cloud for even conceptualizing such a horrific idea. A sneer arose on Cloud’s face as she fed back some of Tifa’s words over the years.

_“Cloud, please don’t say that! We’re friends!”_

_“Oh, Cloud, I wish you didn’t feel that way. We’re all here for you whenever you need someone.”_

_“Why do you think that way, Cloud? Do you not trust us?”_

_“Cloud, please listen to me. Your fears are irrational and we all have faith in you. I don’t want you to keep thinking about us in such horrible ways, since they’re unfounded, you know?”_

_“Cloud, I want to ask you something. Do you…hate us? Is that your problem?”_

She seated herself on the first two steps in the mansion’s stairwell, staring at nothing in particular.

_“Do you…hate us?”_

_You’re right, Tifa. I hate you and everyone else on this godforsaken planet. You hate me, so I hate you._

She got up and strode down into the library without hesitation.

She doubted Yuffie knew any better, but it was worth a shot trying her. “Do you know where she could’ve gone?”

The teenager poked up from behind her counter, disgruntled. “How the heck am I supposed to know? I’m not psychic!”

“I was just asking,” Tifa replied, pouting at her. She scanned the bar one more time before hanging her head and sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know where to look. She could’ve gone anywhere. And I don’t know why she left.”

“Maybe you were being too mean to her or somethin’. I dunno.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“You don’t think she’s been hearing voices again, do you?” Yuffie leaned forward as her eyes widened. “They lured her away! That’s what happened!”

“If that’s the case, then where’d she go? Where would these voices take her?”

Defeated, she slouched and huffed. “Man, this sucks. At this rate we’ll never find her. Maybe we should just hope and wait to see if she returns?”

Tifa eyed her past her shoulder. “And if she doesn’t ever return?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. My only other suggestion kinda sucks too—just start searching.”

“Hopping from place to place?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s my only choice, isn’t it?” Tifa felt something pull within her stomach, something she had never truly felt since she was a child. Something was missing, something she needed. Something she needed to get back. The pulling sharpened into a knife wrenched in her side, then she looked away and winced. She hadn’t let anyone see into her for a very long time. She didn’t want that to change.

When the pain was tolerable, she faced her and added, “I’ll go. I’d rather not take you along because…well, you know how Cloud is.”

Yuffie frowned, but she nodded in agreement.

“All we can hope for now is that I’m not too late.”

_Surely it didn’t smell this bad last time_ , Cloud thought to herself as she stood before one of the desks flipped over in the library, hunched over and trying to wipe the tears sliding down her cheeks. A thick, warm musk, not present in the mansion’s foyer and possibly a product of old, dried body fluids, was squeezing the air out of her lungs while it seared her eyes _. I would’ve remembered it. I think._

She still didn’t trust herself entirely. After all, just an hour or two ago something—or someone—was forcing her legs to move. Who it was escaped her.

Absentmindedly she picked up a dusty, overstuffed book that was laying splayed-open on the floor next to the desk, presumably being knocked over when the desk was flipped. She sucked in a breath before wiping away grime to see the cover.

_‘Retooling the Human Brain’s Synapses to Utilize Primitive Advantages’? Whatever the hell that’s about_ , she thought and set the book down, _I’m not interested._

_There is another floor below you. It has a secret entrance, however._

Cloud jumped and nearly screamed. She searched the various, old shelves of decaying volumes to ensure that she was the only one currently there, still not relaxing her muscles after she realized it was that woman again.

“What are you talking about this time?” She didn’t care if she angered her. She couldn’t hurt her, even if she wanted to. “Another floor, you say? Why should I trust you?”

_What advantage would there be for me to lie to you?_

“Sorry, that was stupid of me. You wouldn’t tell me either way.” She folded her arms, taking a moment to wonder if the woman could see her at all or if all she saw was a black void.

_If you insist on your silly games, all I will tell you is that the truth is right underneath your feet. Good luck finding the entrance to it._

Her grim expression faltered. “The truth?” She was curious, yet putting her faith in the woman was probably one of the worst ideas she’d ever have.

The woman laughed, a sort of deriding chuckle Cloud would expect to be directed at a whiny child. _I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Do you remember where Sephiroth stood in here?_

“Yeah?”

_There’s your answer._

She wasted no time finding the spot, though she didn’t understand what exactly she was alluding to. She took an uncertain step forward, and with a guess she tried to shift the bookshelf against the wall.

She wasn’t particularly surprised when it slid to her right with ease. _Oldest trick in the book. Odd that Sephiroth never noticed it…_

Behind it was another stairwell, more poorly lit than the one feeding into the library, with most of the overhead lights either blown out or spluttering a dull, amber-colored glow. The sloppy masonry was unique in the sense that such work hadn’t been seen anywhere else in the building, perhaps being older than the mansion itself. Its dungeonlike feel certainly helped in creating an aged atmosphere, as did the smell.

More dank than the library and more putrid as well. Cloud found herself suppressing a couple of gags as she clambered down the crumbling steps, and ultimately gave into her urges at the last step when she doubled over and nearly vomited. The rot of death was filling her mouth and nostrils, getting into her lungs, contaminating them, turning their insides outward, stifling her breath. She didn’t acknowledge the tears at this point, instead continuing through the dark, nearly black tunnel until the faintest outline of a doorway towered over her. She walked a few feet past the doorway, then stopped. She didn’t want something to attack her.

_There’s a light switch next to you._ She fumbled for it, her back stiffening at the hideous screeching of the basement’s lights flickering to life.

The lights revealed the source of the stench.

A mound of naked corpses, all greasy and oddly well-preserved, was laying in the center. Many of them were frozen in positions that were, Cloud guessed, their last, with some reaching out toward the light, others locked in some sort of crawl, while others were condensed into the classic fetal position, and still others were slumped over, their heads lolled, like they had passed out and never woke up again. Blood splatters of all kinds decorated the floor and walls like a grotesque wallpaper.

She wasn’t sure which was more disturbing, the realization that most, if not all the corpses had long, silvery hair, or the series of damaged mako chambers positioned against the wall behind the mound.

Next to the chambers on her right was a strange, massive box-like machine outfitted with multiple screens and the most confusing control panels she had ever seen. To her left sat machinery similar to what was attached to the chambers, though each “block” varied in size and shape, and each one had a different structure fixed to it to assist it in whatever its original purpose was. File cabinets, abnormal due to how plain they were in contrast to the cruel scene taking center stage (despite the dust and cobwebs on them), were near the doorway. She tried to open a drawer on one of the cabinets, only to find whoever was in here last had locked it.

With no other ideas on how to proceed, she drew closer toward the corpses.

_What the hell—they’re all women?_ She was expecting true Sephiroth clones, as a piece of evidence for her theory that someone, probably a scientist of Shinra, was seeking to replace the general post-Incident. All of the corpses being female canceled that idea. _Unless it’s something else entirely?_

_They’re failures._

_You again?_ Cloud felt her face warp into a snarl. She chose not to speak, fearing that, somehow, noise would return life to the bodies. _Well, since you’re back, can you explain what you mean? You’re the one who led me here, after all._

_You weren’t too far off the mark about them being Sephiroth clones. They were all failures precisely because they were women…Shinra didn’t want a female replacement. It would raise suspicion._

_But he technically “died” in the Incident. Sephiroth being alive in any form after that would raise suspicion, no?_

_You should’ve seen what they were going to do._ Cloud had a weird feeling that the woman was shaking her head. _A huge misinformation campaign, designed to blind the public to what happened in Nibelheim, was already being initiated the moment word got out. And since most people were already being spoon-fed news specifically doctored by Shinra, it wouldn’t be too difficult to delude them once again._

_You certainly seem to know a lot. Care to explain why?_ She took a moment to scratch the bump spurting from her shoulder blade. It hurt, but there was an itch on it she couldn’t ignore. It had grown longer, larger since she last touched it.

The woman snickered. _Let’s just say a long time ago, I was in the background of every one of Shinra’s operations._

Cloud almost let out a sigh, but still dreaded the possibility that sound would make one of them pounce on her. _Why can’t you just tell me who you are?_

_That would take away the fun, the mystery._ Her laughter here was playful and completely inappropriate for the basement. _Besides, I don’t think you’re quite ready yet. Considering that you still refuse to accept the fact that you are my child—_

_I’m not your child! I don’t know why you insist on that. I’ve never met you. I don’t even know what you look like._ She sniffed, and was surprised at the tears spilling down her face presently—hot tears of frustration. Why did she even care? It was all deception, anyway. _Sephiroth was probably hearing the exact same things I’m hearing now…_

_So you still refuse? A shame, really. I wanted to show you something._

_Huh?_

_Come closer, Cloud. This is why I wanted you to come here._

Somehow she knew that she had to inch closer to the corpses. She complied. When she did so, she swore she saw something move within the pile, something jerk and twitch.

And then a hand, with the same black claws she had, emerged. Another one followed, and they grasped at the air for anything to latch onto, flailing uselessly until Cloud offered one of her own hands. It wasn’t until the hands’ owner started pulling toward her that she comprehended her action. She first stared at the bodies parting, then stared at the one she had assisted.

She had bright red eyes, the pupils slits.

Cloud’s throat was parched. “What?”

“It’s me.” Her mouth, blue-lipped, twitched into a smile, warm and almost…motherly. No. That was wrong. She shouldn’t have had a mother’s smile. She shouldn’t have been able to talk. She shouldn’t have been moving at all. Everything was wrong.

“I-I don’t…what?” Cloud wanted to vomit.

She brought a clammy hand to Cloud’s cheek, sending her reeling. “You’ve been talking to me all along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so hopefully by now things are starting to pick up...things are going to get even wackier in the next batch of chapters.  
> cc appreciated!


	5. Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok things will get a little more bonkers here. but hopefully the upcoming buildup will be worth it...im really enjoying writing this, even if no one really likes my work, lol. sorry if the beginning is a lil rough though

_It has to be the mansion. It’s the last place that makes sense._

She stepped closer to the entrance, hand hovering over the doorknob. She took in a breath as her heart rushed blood to her ears. The ground under her feet seemed to wobble and slide, and for a few moments she clenched the doorknob as though she was about to tip over. When a dagger of pain pushed itself into her brain, she couldn’t resist her urges anymore, hunched over, and vomited.

Inky, viscous nonsense. She had never seen it before. Panic seized her, and with the world beginning to spin, she leaned on the door for some sort of support.

_I can’t let Cloud see me like this. She’s going to get worse if I start to degrade, too. I have to keep going, I have to make sure she’s okay to some extent. I have to help her._

She coughed and shook her head, then stepped inside.

She could see the lights of the library emanating from the stairwell, yet was slightly alarmed to find no one in there upon scouring the area.

_It certainly looks like someone’s been in here_ , she thought to herself as she stumbled across a tipped-over desk. _Did she leave already? If she did, then where would she—wait, I’ve never seen that before…_

In the corner of her eyes there was another doorway, and when she fully directed her attention to it, she noticed another staircase within it. Curious, she drew closer to it, only to gag again upon doing so. The atrocious smell worsened, of which she hadn’t thought possible. It was hard to keep her eyes open.

She made her way down slowly, tensing whenever a step groaned under her feet. Her ribs were closing in on her lungs, constricting them, and the only thing she wanted to do in that moment was take in a long, deep breath. The smell, however, made her wary of breathing any longer than a millisecond or two, as if she’d catch rare and deadly diseases if she stayed in the stairwell. Her pace quickened. _She must’ve gone down here. She must have. It’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s the only thing that—_

Cloud was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. Her eyes were vacant, glossy, the pupils slits, her face blank. Sweat stuck her blonde bangs to her forehead. Blood stained her hands.

Her heart wrenched and the thick, musty air loomed over them. “Cloud? What’s…what’s wrong?”

Cloud blinked, shaking her head like she was stirring from a nightmare. She rubbed her eyes, and when she pulled her hands away, the life in them had returned. Alarm quickly replaced the emptiness. “Tifa! What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you! What else would I be doing here?” She was annoyed, yet relieved at the same time. Though the sight of blood still disconcerted her.

“Oh, well, I just thought, maybe, you know—never mind.” Cloud glanced at her hands after noticing Tifa was staring at them. “Oh, that? There were some monsters when I first came down here. All good now.”

A long pause. Tifa folded her arms. “Are you telling the truth?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You have a history of lying. At the worst times, too.”

“But he’s gone now. I have no need to lie, since I’m no longer a puppet.”

“You lied to me last week about eating dinner when you just threw it in the trash! If you’re willing to lie about something as insignificant as that, why wouldn’t you be lying about something as important as what’s happening to you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Tifa. Let’s just…go back, alright?” She flashed a toothy smile, but rescinded it when the other woman continued to frown at her.

“If nothing’s wrong, then why the hell were you in a secret room of Shinra Manor?”

“I was bored.”

Tifa sighed.

_Why can’t you just tell me what’s bothering you? Why are you so afraid of the truth? What…are you hiding from? From me and the others? From yourself?_

_What’s happening to you?_

_I don’t know._

_What’s wrong with you?_

_I don’t know._

_What’s your problem?_

_I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know._

_There’s something wrong with you._

_I don’t know how to fix it._

_Can’t you be useful for once?_

_I…can! I can! I can! Why do you say such horrible things?_

_You’re worthless. You should’ve died like the rest of them._

_No! You’re…you’re wrong! I deserve to live like everyone else!_

_Why do you want to live? You’ll never be truly happy, what with the way you are._

_I want to live because…because…I don’t know…_

_How can you ever be sure of yourself? How can we ever trust you?_

_Please stop asking! You know I can’t answer!_

_Weak. Useless. The only reason you’re alive is because of them. Otherwise, fate would’ve taken care of you._

_But I—_

_How much longer will it be before your “friends” have to kill you? There is only so much left of your mind, and it is falling, piece by piece, the longer time wears on. What then, when you have lost your faculties? What then, when the only force driving you is instinct? What then, when you are nothing more than a mindless husk, piloted only by the desire for never ending bloodshed and destruction, a desire to see the universe come to an end? What then, when you are the manifestation of all evil?_

_You’re wrong. I’ll find a way to keep going—_

_That’s how it begins, isn’t it? Dogged optimism, even in the face of absurd existence, even in the wake of the creeping demise of your planet, even in the wake of the death of all your loved ones. Then you begin to think. Why continue when you have lost your purpose in life? Why continue when no one who loves you is there to see you develop and accomplish? Why continue when all your actions right now will not faze fate, and that fate is the death of everything you’ve ever known? Why continue when everything will be swallowed up by the unfeeling wrath of time itself?_

_You’re wrong._

_You say that I am wrong, and yet, I can feel your heart. It is heavy, though empty. Like a thick, cumbersome shell that had been discarded by its owner a long time ago. You cannot fool me, Cloud. I know everything about you. I know that you agreeing with everything I am saying presently._

_I—No! You’re just saying that to mess me up! You’re wrong! You’re wrong! You’re—_

_Like a child throwing a temper tantrum when things don’t go their way. Such a shame to see that. With whatever is left of my own emotions, I can say that it’s disheartening to see you very much like I was a long time ago. You will end up like me, no doubt. But is that really a surprise, considering how the chance to change your fate had passed you way in the past? Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect my daughter to be different from her mother—_ se’re bolana, se’re dolana _, as they said in my time. Cloud, before I go, I want to ask you one last thing._

_Are you afraid of yourself? Or are you afraid of what you will become?_

_What I…will become? Huh?_

Her mind went dead at the sight of a beautiful woman with long, white hair. She was smiling, and there was gentleness in her bright green eyes. The pupils could not be seen, as the shadows from her bangs obscured most of her long face.

She looked just like _him_ , but there was one problem.

She was wearing Cloud’s attire.

“How much longer will it take?” That was…Hojo, wasn’t it? He sounded stranger than she was familiar with, but no matter. She couldn’t see anything, anyway.

“It certainly won’t speed up if you keep complaining.” That voice—it was her mother. It was distorted and distant, like she was speaking underwater, but it had to be her. She’d recognize the grim inflection anywhere. “We don’t want her to be premature, now do we?”

Hojo groaned. “There you go again by referring to it as ‘her’. We have discussed this before, and didn’t we agree that pronouns besides _it_ should only be reserved for actual human beings?”

“Like you’d actually care whether or not something is considered human.”

“I simply do not want you to use humanizing language in reference to any experiments you are overseeing. That only leads to disaster in my experience.”

“Why do I doubt your explanation?” She jumped at the sound of someone hitting glass. The noise was awfully close, and she sensed faraway vibrations of whatever was hit, while the wires and tubes feeding into all parts of her body shook slightly. It was only when she moved that she realized she was sucking her thumb, but continued to do so after settling in her place. It comforted her. “Besides, just look at her. Is she not like any other human child?”

“‘Look at her’? It’s in a goddamned mako chamber, Claudia! You’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this experiment is human,” Hojo said with a scoff, then started to chuckle. Self-satisfaction hung from every one of his words. “And a human _child_ at that, too! Why is it a child in your eyes? Because it’s got pieces of you inside it? Are you succumbing to… _motherly instinct_ , like her? Oh, no, it _is_ like her all over again, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know when to stop talking, do you? Her feelings toward him were perfectly normal. In fact—” she said as, presumably, she tapped on the glass, with her voice moving closer toward her. With no thought, she reached out to where she believed her mother had tapped the glass, filling with warmth when her mother tapped again, right where the glass separated their hands. How badly she wanted to be in her arms at that moment! “Had I been in her situation, I would’ve ended up the same way.”

“You women confound me. Why would any sensible person want to be affiliated with such a horrible creature, anyway?”

“She isn’t a creature. She’s a human being, just like us. You’ll never understand.” She tapped on the glass again, and in a whisper so faint that she wondered how she managed to hear her through everything surrounding her, she told her, “But I hope someday…you’ll understand. I love you, always and forever. I hope you’ll remember that.”

_I already have a name for her, too, Shera._

_Oh, what is it?_

_Cloud. Like what she’ll be seeing lots of in the sky once I figure out how to get us the hell out of this shithole._

_Simple and sweet. Not bad, Claudia. But how will you get out? Shinra’s very possessive over its scientists, unless they end up on its bad side._

_It’s obvious. I’ll just tell the president that I quit._

_What! Surely you don’t think it’ll be that easy?_

_You just said that scientists who get on Shinra’s bad side get the easy way out, right? Don’t you think that my plan is a quick way to do that?_

_Well I…I suppose so, but I—I’m worried for you. I don’t want them to hire hit men or whatever after they rid of you, you know? ‘Cause I think they’d still be interested in her, no?_

_They’ll have no reason to be interested when I tell them. I’ve already figured out how to wipe her memories of this place._

_Oh, Claudia, isn’t that…unethical? And no one’s done it before—at least, not to a child! You’re sure of no side effects or anything else that can go wrong?_

_Relax. I’ve got it all figured out._

“You haven’t eaten in several days, now, Cloud.”

She froze. Her voice sounded like it was coming at her from all sides. She gripped the counter harder, waves of vertigo churning her stomach. Everything was blurred mush.

“Oh, Tifa, where’d you come from?” She forced a smile at the figure standing before her, unable to distinguish her face from her hair. A few vague, clumsy thoughts drifted through the fragments of her subconscious _. Long, dark. Pretty. Strong…body…not strong…me, no…weak, ugly…ugly scars…one nice scar…_

Her red eyes pierced through her soul. “I literally just came from downstairs. You didn’t see me?”

“Uh, no. I can’t see anything, really.” _Maybe I shouldn’t have said that_ , she realized after speaking. Tifa’s concern could be sensed, even with the bar separating them. “Um, it’s fine, though. I’m still alive.” _She doesn’t believe me, I’m done for._

“Just barely!” came a squeaky voice from behind her, and turning around revealed a crude, watercolor-like representation of who she guessed was Yuffie. She rubbed her eyes. Her sight only worsened. “You look like hell.”

“Yuffie!” Tifa said defensively, but Cloud offered a wave of her hand.

“She’s not wrong, you know. I look and feel like shit, honestly. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Dude, you’ve been in bed for like, the entire morning. Do you know what time it is?” Yuffie leaned forward, her watery eyes wide, peering into her like she was a frog being dissected under hot lights. Cloud shivered. “It’s a quarter to four.”

“ _Really_? I’ve been asleep for that long?”

Yuffie and Tifa exchanged nervous, hesitant expressions. Tifa spoke up first. “Cloud, you weren’t really sleeping. You were in some sort of twilight state, not entirely aware of your surroundings and mumbling nonsense. I had to keep you from rolling off your bed multiple times.”

“Yeah, and you were mumbling _scary_ nonsense. Like, stuff that made me doubt my existence. That’s just unforgivable, making a teenager go through an existential crisis!”

“Yuffie, let’s not push her. She’s clearly struggling.”

She hated how helpless all of them made her feel, as if they were being forced to take care of some overgrown baby. “Shut up.”

Tifa turned to her. “Excuse me?” Disbelief shook her voice.

“I don’t like the way you talk about me.”

“What did I say? Did I not tell the truth?”

_The truth…_ Her head was starting to hurt. Was it really true that she was useless? She couldn’t dismiss the possibility, and that unsettled her. It made her angry, too. An anger she never felt before, a bitter rage, began to froth deep within her chest. “You make me sound weak.”

“How so?”

Yuffie shook her head. “Yeah, your hearing’s all wacky, too. Maybe you should just go back to bed.”

She knew it didn’t take much and yet, she figured her nerves were already stretched too thin. Any form of human interaction had always made her weary, and at this point the presence of people alone was irritating. “You know what?” Cloud stood up from her stool, steadying her balance as her environment quivered. The urge to vomit rose up in her, but she smothered it. “Yuffie’s right. I’m done here.”

“Cloud, wait—”

“Hey! Cloud! I didn’t mean—”

_Too late_ , she thought to herself. There was no door at the bottom of the basement’s staircase for her to slam, unfortunately, so she took some large planks of wood off the ground to wall off the opening. Once she was satisfied, she collapsed onto her lumpy, well-worn bed, uncomfortable and intensely miserable.

She shifted a little to accommodate the lump—no longer growing—on her back. It had moved to a new stage—twitching, like inside of it was a new appendage waiting to rupture. The movements alone made her violently ill.

She wiped her forehead. There was so much more sweat than she thought there was. And she was rather cold. Freezing, even. Painfully cold, actually. The frost was feasting on her raw, crystallized flesh, savoring every bloody mouthful, letting excess dribble down its chin, letting what composed her body be ground into indistinguishable, red mush. She only acknowledged the tremors ravaging her body now—were they always there? She didn’t know. She didn’t know a lot of things. She didn’t know if she was really awake right now or if she was in another strange dream-memory mishmash.

A long blade of pain, stabbed into her head, twisted itself over and over, burning and smashing her mind, smearing her sight into an unrecognizable kaleidoscope of blurry colors that never existed. Closing her eyes did not take away the agony all over her body. She didn’t care. She would see everything that made the world wrong once her eyes were closed, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

Not at this moment, not ever.

She didn’t feel the need to scream when clawed hands grasped at her limbs and seized her legs to drag her off into the hellish unknown. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to bring attention to herself, anyway.

She finally felt at peace when everything came to a stop, as it reminded her of death.


	6. End

i'm done with this lmao. this is embarrassing for me now.

i am in the midst of rewriting it, though, and just uploaded the first chapter of the rewrite, so if you care, go and check that one out...


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